journalism


19
Mar 11

I can’t believe it is already Saturday

If you left it to some media outlets you’d think the South was still living in the 1960s.

But no one talks much about Worcy Crawford, who died in July at age 90, leaving a graveyard of decaying buses behind his house on the outskirts of Birmingham.

His private coaches, all of them tended by Mr. Crawford almost until the day he died, do not have the panache of the city buses that the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. refused to ride. But they have significance nonetheless.

With their cracked windows and rusting engines thick with brambles, they are remnants of something that was quite rare in the South: a bus company owned by an African-American.

Mr. Crawford’s work was simple. He kept a segregated population moving. Any Birmingham child who needed a ride to school, a football game or a Girl Scout outing during the Jim Crow era and beyond most likely rode one.

That’s a neat piece, don’t misunderstand. But let’s also be clear: the latest development in that particular story is Crawford’s death, last July. Everything else dates back two generations.

The reporter certainly has her share of accolades, but she’s from California and Alaska, so maybe that’s the problem. Every time you send another person South they have to gain some sort of institutional history and the Civil Rights Era is one place to start. Certainly this is a worthy era, but it discounts more than a little about what has happened in this region, you know, in more recent decades.

Just off the top of my head there’s biomedical research, medicine in general, automotive growth, the transition from heavy industry to service industry (which would be a nice follow up after the typical Civil Rights, five decades-old reporting), more corruption and governmental unscrupulousness than you can cram in a newshole and so on.

None of these things will ever be covered by that particular newsroom. Doesn’t fit the narrative.

One more journalism note. I foudn these three headlines grouped together. Google calls it an algorithm. Really, this is irony:

  • Arianna And AOL CEO Tim Armstrong Teach Journalism Class At Brooklyn Middle School.
  • AOL to De-emphasize Journalism, Focus On Brand.
  • Huffpo Claims Its Bloggers Aren’t Writers. Is That True?

So I guess my one recent visit to HuffPo might be my last. We’ve seen AOL brand things before, and this is just going to get unfortunate, I’m afraid. Shame, too, they have been massing together a lot of resources and talent, but if the point is just to get the logo on my browser, I’m going to be less and less interested.

Meanwhile, from the Middle East, comes a fascinating insight into life in Syria:

Syria recently gained the unpalatable title of being the most restrictive Middle Eastern country for internet censorship, formally held by Tunisia. Syria blocked (and still blocks) a number of sites ranging from pornography to Kurdish websites. These restrictions however are not uniform and inconsistencies such as blocking Hotmail but not YahooMail are not uncommon.

More or less every internet cafe I visited (albeit these were in the more touristy areas) already had the settings changed so that a proxy computer, usually in Saudi Arabia, was used so the public were free to browse banned sites at their leisure. There were even computer programmes that people would pass around to find a new proxy number should one stop working. Sometimes I had to ask for the proxy to be put in which the staff would do without a bat of the eye.

[…]

Speaking to my friend recently he told me people are still frightened because although these sites are now allowed, the internet is still heavily monitored and the rules may change at any time. As there has been no official announcement of the ban being lifted, predicting the mood of the regime is difficult.

The full piece is definitely worth a quick read.

More baseball today as the Tigers looked for revenge against the visiting Arkansas Razorbacks. The bases were loaded, Kevin Patterson had been in a mini-slump, but he’d been hacking away like someone kicked his puppy. And then the pitcher grooved one which wound up behind him, about 385 feet in his bullpen. That grand slam helped the Tigers win 9-5.

Also, they had fireworks.

(That’s from last night, but they go better with a grand slam story than an extra-innings loss.) If you’ll watch the video there’s something a little different in the second half.


2
Mar 11

About being out

Churned through the remainder of my stack of papers to grade today. I’m now all caught up, which seems a small miracle when I considered the pile of things to work through.

Also had a sit-down with the boss today.

Had a meeting with the editor-in-chief of the paper this afternoon where we critiqued this week’s edition of the Crimson and started thinking about the last six issues of the year. They go by so fast, but I’m always proud of how far the staff progresses in that short amount of time.

Had a meeting with the sales manager, too. She’s selling things that need to be sold. That makes everyone happy. As a salesman friend of mine says, though, you can always sell more. Sales: not for the faint of heart.

All of these things seem safer than my errands of late.

Know what else isn’t? Walmart. I went there late last evening and, I can’t recommend it. I like to compile a short list of things to seek out, lest I feel I’m braving that parking lot for only one item. Two things — a garage door switch and a particular type of bottle — I could not purchase there last evening. A third I decided against. That worked me down to cards and candy. This is why I sat at that weird light and made an almost-unprotected left turn.

Also it means I’ll have to visit a home improvement mega center later in the week. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, because it might be worth a full-length essay all of its own. Come back Thursday or Friday for that.

Just as fun, though, was taking my life into my own hands tonight. I’m walking from a parking spot across a lane of parking lot traffic to get from car to the door at Jason’s Deli. A car is coming through the parking lot lane and accelerates toward me. This was shocking to me as I am not in a drama/action film, but merely a mild-mannered professor carrying a book about the history of the House of Representatives. (Really, this is the person you’re aiming at, dude?)

Fortunately his aggression was all for naught. He was driving a Volkswagen. If he had more than four cylinders that could have become messy.

Which makes you think, high speed accidents will decrease when we all inevitably buy those magic unicorn cars. Incidences of road rage will skyrocket because it’ll take you four minutes to clear an intersection, but there are always trade offs in life.

Like this. I’m going to end this now so I may begin watching The Tudors. I’ve just finished the first two discs of Rome, Season Two (see how I deftly avoided the Roman numerals there?) and am in a television period piece frame of mind. I’m so comfortable with the notion of period pieces I won’t even mind when they obviously veer from history to try and tell a tale.

(But I’ll surely tell you about the egregious oversights. For example: Henry isn’t this young when these things happen. But look at those clothes! It must be legit!)


19
Feb 11

On-site, outta sight

SEJC business meeting this morning. I’ve been to this conference twice. This is my first business meeting. I managed to get myself on an awards committee.

Not sure how that happens.

We had a sandwich luncheon today, including keynote addresses by WAKA-TV’s Stefanie Hicks and Jeff Sanders, both Troy graduates, and their colleague Glen Halbrooks. They all gave the students wonderful advice, the most important parts being “This is a hard business requiring long hours and not the best pay. Work hard. Say “Yes.” Be patient.”

An award was given to the journalism educator of the year, who has been doing this for an incredible 42 years. I do believe they caught her by surprise with the honor.

The journalist of the year award was given to Alex McDaniel of Ole Miss, for whom this was a well-deserved honor given the last year of journalism on her campus.

Mississippi won the overall competition. They always seem to do well, bringing lots of talented students (151 participated and I think at least 95 of them were from Ole Miss) who place well in the competitions.

Samford had another nice day, too. One student placed third in the editorial competition. Another won the radio anchoring competition. Exciting stuff.

And then the drive home. Less exciting.

But I stopped at Crowe’s Chicken. My students were kind enough to indulge me the detour. I haven’t been to Crowe’s in more than a decade, but this is the place for chicken fingers. Yes, yes, I know all the others. Zaxby’s is fine. Whatever. I went to school and live in the town where Gutherie’s started. Tenda-Chick is wonderful.

But Crowe’s. Oh, Crowe’s. Sam Cooke was playing on the radio when we walked in. And that’s all you really need to know.

The place looks like a dank old Hardee’s. (At least the one where we stopped. There are apparently two of them?) It smelled of chicken like your Southern grandmother would make. And if you don’t have a Southern grandmother, I well and truly apologize for how life has short-changed you in this simile.

So I ate Crowe’s as we drove by Sikes and Kohn signs and nut huts. The Wiregrass experience doesn’t get more profoundly accurate than that.

We made it back to Samford much faster than the trip down. The students slept or studied. I dropped them all off, returned the rental van, wrapped up my trip with the paperwork and Emails that bragged of the students accomplishments and started to do a little more comps work myself.

And then I decided to head home.

There was a steak waiting.

So The Yankee and I had a delicious steak. And that was pretty much the night. She had a bike race this morning (and is claiming third place) and I’ve been traveling for a few days. We’re exhausted, party people.


18
Feb 11

Best of the South awards banquet

Just so you know …

Badge

The SEJC’s Best of the South awards banquet was tonight. This featured the Troy Jazz ensemble, a wonderful story by our organizer who stole the show with a dance with his wife, a First Amendment keynote speech by Student Press Law Center director Frank LoMonte, turkey, brisket and perfectly acceptable peach cobbler.

(Hint: Almost all peach cobbler is perfectly acceptable.)

Also, there were the Best of the South award presentations.

These are awards for which we submit in the fall. We send off a bunch of nominees covering a wide range of specialties across the print discipline, television, online and radio. This year we did not send as many as we normally do because of time constraints, but nevertheless we had an excellent night.

Out of 331 entries covering 24 categories with submissions from 29 schools, Samford students claimed seven honors in categories like best magazine writer, best press photographer, best radio journalist, best research paper and best magazine page layout designer. Exodus placed third in the magazine contest. The Crimson placed eighth in a talented field.

On the night Samford’s name was called as much as any other school in the state. Our students are doing something right.

We celebrated with Dairy Queen. And then I went back to my room to iron and work.

Tomorrow we’ll find out how we did in the on-site competitions and return to campus.


17
Feb 11

On the road

Which means on-the-road differences, discoveries and frustrations.

Like this:

Iron

Meet the only iron in the free world that refuses to heat up. I’ll be a little more wrinkled tomorrow for it.

Anyway, we’re in Troy at the Southeastern Journalism Conference. This is the 25th meeting of that august group, an annual gathering meant to promote journalism among aspiring students.

Samford has five nice, excited and thoughtful students on this trip. They’ll pick up awards the school has earned over the last year and compete for more honors in various on-site competitions.

Today the contest was in just getting down here. This trip is supposed to take two-and-a-half hours. We drove through an accident. We drove through one of those improbably slowdowns where nothing was going on at the front of the thing — it was mystifying, no merging, no stalls, cops or wrecks, everything just ground down to nothing for a while. I hate those things, even though I’ve read somewhere that it comes down to inattention. Someone jams on the brakes unexpectedly in a high volume situation and it can impact the road’s behavior for miles.

Anyway, then there was stopping to get gas because the rental car people didn’t give me enough. Then there was dinner – Chick-fil-A, my third visit there in as many days. Then we got turned around, but only for about two minutes.

Finally we made it to the conference hotel. We registered and then moved down the road to our hotel. When I got in my room it was 10 p.m., even. We left at 5 p.m.

Which is when the fun began. No Internet connection. My computer could see the local router, but could not get on. Observation: do not go ask the people at the front desk about this. That young lady wanted it to work really badly, but she had no idea.

Finally I found a phone number of the third-party contractor that provides the Internet service. We changed a few settings and she had me surfing in a few minutes.

Which is when I discovered the iron doesn’t heat up. And, yes, I surf while I iron. You don’t?

So tomorrow I’ll get that replaced.

Also, I’m not sure how the shower controls work. I think someone put that cover plate with the temperature guide onto the wall backwards.

But the soaps smell lovely. I have a huge television and a clean bed. And, despite this place being packed with college students in Troy for the conference, it seems quiet enough.

Tomorrow there will be workshop sessions, the on-site competitions, picking up a few awards, meeting nice people and more.